Scarlett Rose had always been the epitome of dedication. No matter the time of day or how chaotic her schedule, she never missed her yoga. It wasn’t just about the fitness — though the mirror certainly confirmed its results — it was her hour of peace, of calm, of solitude. The outside world could wait. This was her time.

The studio was quiet that morning, as it always was. Nestled above a tired café and hidden behind a frosted glass door, it was Scarlett’s own l*ttle sanctuary. She stepped in, the scent of lavender and lemongrass immediately greeting her senses. She wore her favorite gym set — high-waisted charcoal leggings and a snug cropped tank that hugged her like a second skin. Her pink trainers squeaked softly on the polished hardwood floor, the only sound breaking the peaceful silence.

She rolled out her mat — a soft lilac one, slightly worn from hours of use — and eased down, starting with a few gentle stretches. The sunlight peeked through the window slats, dust motes dancing in golden rays. It was perfect.

But then, something changed.

She barely had time to register the quiet footsteps behind her before a firm but oddly gentle pressure met her wrists. In an instant, they were drawn behind her back. Before she could twist or c*ll out, a smooth strip of tape — unmistakably pink — zipped around her hands, binding them securely. She gasped, but even that was swiftly silenced as another piece of tape pressed against her lips... then another... and another, crisscrossing until all she could manage was a muffled, wide-eyed squeak.

“Mmmph?!”

Her instructor, it seemed, had other plans for this session.

More tape followed, applied with the same curious mixture of efficiency and playfulness. Her ankles were drawn together, then her knees. A band circled her upper body, pinning her arms tight against her sides and making her chest rise and fall with each controlled breath. The color of the tape — a perfect match to her vibrant footwear — only added insult to the surprise. She was restrained... and coordinated.

Once the wrapping was done, Scarlett was gently eased onto her side, her cheek pressing against the soft yoga mat. She squirmed instinctively, the bonds creaking lightly with each movement. Her eyes narrowed in mock frustration, but her cheeks lifted ever so slightly. There was a smile behind that tape — a smirk, really. As if to say, really? This is your idea of inner peace?

Time ticked on. The studio remained silent, save for the soft scuffing of her trainers against the mat and the occasional, frustrated grunt. Every few minutes, she shifted, wriggling like a fish caught in a net, testing each layer of tape. Her breath quickened as she twisted, the athletic tape flexing ever so slightly — just enough to tease her with false hope before holding firm.

Oddly enough... the longer she remained like this, the calmer she felt.

No phone. No distractions. No emails. No small talk. Just silence, stillness, and the rhythmic beating of her own heart. The bonds, frustrating as they were, kept her in stillness. She couldn’t check her to-do list. Couldn’t fidget. Couldn’t even complain. The more she lay there, eyes half-lidded in the morning light, the more she began to accept it.

Was this... zen?

She giggled softly — or would have, had it not been for the tape across her mouth. Instead, it came out as a muffled hum, a ripple of amusement vibrating through her chest. Somehow, in the most unexpected way, she had achieved the very thing she came for. A calm she couldn’t squirm away from. A peace that could only be reached by surrender.

Scarlett shifted once more, settling deeper into the mat, her bound limbs resting quietly now. She closed her eyes.

Perhaps next session, her instructor would let her start in this position.

B*llgagged B*ndage Struggling Scarlett Rose in Yoga b*ndage with C4s.com

Bllgagged Bndage Struggling Scarlett Rose in Yoga b*ndage with C4s.com